


Failure, Warlock, Sage

by Elvishdork



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvishdork/pseuds/Elvishdork
Summary: Renee Der'Oren was supposed to be a powerful wizard.  Or she would be if she weren't the family disappointment.  At seventeen she runs away from home to avoid an arranged marriage.She sails across the world to Shorema, a desert city, and starts a new life as Ren Everwind.  Things are better, for a time at least.  She works in an antique shop that really only has one rule: Don't open the chained up book in the back.  In her 20s now, her curiosity gets the best of her and turns her life upside down again.A chance meeting on Ori Island sets her on a new path.  Through portals and time rifts, their group becomes the Maintenance Crew.  It turns out that there's a rat they'll need to kill.
Comments: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My D&D group wrapped up this campaign back in May of this year. I've been working off my old notes to get the story written down. I really wanted to better record our campaign some way and I felt that putting it here was the best way to do that.
> 
> Our amazing DM for this campaign is Voxel-Loves-You (Found [on Tumblr](voxel-loves-you.tumblr.com) and [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxel)).

>   
>  **Oh, I stole from my father all I thought I could sell**   
>  **Tossed his copper, and I watched as it fell**   
>  **But there wasn't any water in the wishing well**

_**-The Oh Hellos “Wishing Well”** _

* * *

If she really stops to think about it, her earliest memory is from around the time she was eight years old. Alexander - her brother - is showing their father his breakthrough with the mage hand cantrip. A flick of his wrist and wiggle of his fingers and a spectral hand shimmers into existence. Their father looks so proud; watching Alexander send the hand to and fro. She’s never seen him look so pleased. 

It twists her insides. She’s been studying the same spell for months and hasn’t manifested anything. She hasn’t gotten so much as a flicker of light or a shimmer of a form.

When her father looks at her she doesn’t need a mind reading spell to know what he’s thinking. She’s the eldest of his children, but Alexander is already surpassing her in every way. 

“You’re a Der’Oren” he tells her constantly, as though that should fix the issue. Of course the gods would plant her in the family that owns the only magical institution on the continent. The only prestigious university for wizards to grow and develop their skills.

The Der’Orens have run the school since the first bricks were laid. Magic is in her blood, or so her family says.

How is she supposed to live up to the family legacy when she can’t grasp even the simplest of spells?

* * *

Benjamin, her grandfather, doesn’t get around much. Something about his bones not being what they used to be. Most days he likes to sit in his chair and bark orders at everyone passing by: “Fix your shirt,” “Straighten your tie,” “Clean your shoes.” His comments are relentless, but they blend into the background of the house.

“Cast the damn spell already,” he barks one day from his chair. It startles Renee: ten years old and still unable to cast a single cantrip. She drops the arcane focus she was using and crystal glass shatters on the hardwood floor.

“See, you’re undisciplined!” her grandfather shouts at her as she starts to cry.

Her father tells her to clean it. She does, crying as she picks up shards of glass. He grabs her wrists, stern face glaring downwards at her. “You are a Der’Oren,” he states. “You will not cry.”

He sends her to her room and she doesn’t have the energy to disobey. It’s only when she’s in the hallway that her father and grandfather start another of their arguments. If she could do magic like they wanted, then they wouldn’t be so angry all the time.

Alexander laughs and teases that she’s a dunce. He casts the spell she had been studying all day, dancing lights shimmering to life in the hallway. “It’s so easy,” he says all boyish bravado. “Anyone could do it. You’re just stupid.” 

She is ten and she certainly feels like an idiot.

* * *

Renee Der’Oren is twelve when her apprenticeship ends. The private tutoring her father has paid for has been for absolutely nothing. She is no further along in her studies of the arcane than if she had started that day. 

“You try, and try, and try, and you always fail. Why do you waste your time on this Renee? You have no talent for this,” her tutor states before he dismisses her for the last time. “This is a waste of both of our time.”

Her father refuses to so much as look at her that day.

Her mother takes over her education. Perhaps wizardry isn’t in her future, but the skills of a bard are always in demand for noble women. Suitors love it when a lady can sing and entertain.

Her mother begins to attempt to teach her to weave magic in song: in the strum of a lute and verbal melody. 

It’s as successful as her wizarding apprenticeship.

Sandra - the Halfling servant who has raised her more than either of her parents have - tells her not to beat herself up over it. It’s hard not to when Alexander takes her apprenticeship and she watches him excel like magic is effortless. 

“Some people are just born with talent,” Albert, the family butler, tells her. 

Renee, spending the day cutting back the plants in the greenhouse, decides that talent is bullshit. She’s never picked up anything she didn’t have to work at. Herbalism doesn’t require magic, only knowledge and practice. 

Too bad her family only sees success and not hard work.

* * *

Renee is seventeen when her mother comes into her room with a letter in her hands. “They’ve accepted the dowry!” She cheers, like it's the greatest news. But her mood sours when Renee dares to ask who she’s marrying and why.

“It’s just how noble marriages work”, her mother explains. “Aren’t you excited! You’ll have your wedding in six months time!”

That her family basically had to bribe another to have them take her from them is besides the point apparently.

“I can’t wait to plan out the details of your wedding! It’s finally here!” Her mother’s excitement goes on, rattling off details of the dress she envisions her daughter in and how everything shall look. Of course she would be blind to what Renee wants.

And she does not want an arranged marriage.

But what else are noble daughters for if not for solidifying alliances and deals with stronger families? It’s not like Renee will ever inherit the Der’Oren estate or school; that honor will belong to her brother who is already specializing in the school of enchantment.

* * *

She is seventeen when she sneaks out in the middle of the night. She slips away to the docks and barters jewelry for passage on a ship. She doesn’t care where they’re going, anywhere is better than Oriya.

She is seventeen when she boards a ship to Shorema and vows to never look back.

* * *

Shorema is unlike anything she has seen before. Oriya was fertil, vibrant and green. Shorema is a desert city on the edge of the Moto Wastes. She’s never seen so many aarakocra or yuan-ti before. Her humanness feels out of place, but still she adapts. 

Without a copper to her name, she gets to work. There’s an old antique dealer who’s looking for a spare pair of hands to help run the shop. He only has one rule: Don’t read the chained book kept in the back. It’s a simple enough rule to follow. 

For a while it is.

She works: cleaning and dusting and handling customers that come into Trinkets & Tomes. She cuts her hair, no longer finding it necessary to keep it long and braided. When people ask, she says her name is Ren. Ren Everwind.

She builds a life in Shorema and comes to appreciate the city’s desert beauty.

Shorema is the heart of the salt trade, it’s called the salt empire; but she discovers that the wine produced by the city is the sweetest she’s ever tasted. It’s a rare treat kept for the people who call Shorema home. The land is home to outcasts and people left without a place to call their own.

Over the years she comes to call the land and the city “home”. For a time that’s enough.

But she has to mess it up. Like pandora’s box, she can’t leave the chained book alone for too long. A small peek shouldn’t hurt.

It does hurt.

It causes a pain that feels like the inside of her skull is splitting open. She had barely removed the chain when the light and noise sprung from the pages to engulf her. Inky blackness quickly following the swirl of color and sound. 

**_“Oh, I could use one like you.”_ **

She hears but doesn’t know from where. It echoes inside her head, rattling the pain that has made itself at home within her.

When she comes back to herself, she’s confused as to why she can feel the midday sun on her face. When she picks herself up off the ground, she’s horrified to find the shop around her destroyed. Planks of wood and broken antiques strewn about everywhere. The old man she works for is nowhere to be seen.

People are starting to gather. People are starting to question.

‘I can’t do this,’ she thinks. She panics. She runs. 

She stumbles and runs back to the docks and barters for passage away again. She doesn’t care where, so long as it’s away from here.

She’s already on a ship to Ori Island when she realizes the book is still on her person. Terrible and horrifying, but it beckons to her. Pulling at the same thrice-damned curiosity that compelled her to open it in the first place. 

Opening the pages she finds the intricate and shifting diagrams interesting. She recognizes some of it as instructions for magic.

**_“You’re not stupid,”_** the voice says in her head. She slams the book shut, looking for the source but it’s nowhere to be seen. 

**_“You could be better,”_** the voice, like rich silks from the Dian Republic, says. **_“I can give you what they never helped you achieve.”_**

“And what would that be,” Ren asks.

**_“Magic beyond your wildest dreams and greater than their expectations ever were.”_ **

She opens the book once more. 

“Keep talking.”


	2. Chapter 2

>   
>  _**Whatever it takes** _  
>  _**'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins** _  
>  _**I do whatever it takes** _  
>  _**'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains**  
>  _  
> 

_**\- Imagine Dragons - “Whatever It Takes”** _

* * *

By the time the ship makes port in Ori Island, Ren has deciphered some of the book's power. It was a shock - a thrill - to produce a burst of green energy from her fingertips. 

It was exhilarating to conjure a flawless mage hand. Shimmering and ethereal; and obeying her every command. 

It feels amazing to wield magic. To finally succeed where she had failed and floundered her whole life. 

No one ever taught her like the being in the book. No one ever told her she could succeed by drawing on power outside of herself. 

_**“They set you up for failure,”**_ the voice whispers as a new page fills in to explain the intricate details of weaving thoughts into another being’s mind. _**“Now let this awaken your mind.”**_

The path of power and self-improvement is through knowledge. With a fresh taste, she is eager to learn and so she obeys. 

The other sailors on the ship eye her with suspicion. They don’t trust whatever is in her book. Ren knows they’re right. The power destroyed the shop and probably killed her boss. She knows enough about magic to respect it, to be weary and to give it a healthy amount of fear.

But success feels good. Too good, in fact. It is a high she chases amongst the pages, learning spell after spell even as she starts to fear the voice that whispers only to her.

* * *

Ori Island - The Cradle of Conflict - is a slab of land in the middle of the ocean that everyone wants a piece of. Despite that, the place is a melting pot and it’s easy enough for one lone human to blend into the crowd.

She walks into Carlie’s Curiosities looking for arcane information. Really, anything that will tell her more about her new book is welcome. The half-orc shopkeeper is nice, smiling and sharing cookies with another half-orc woman and a hobgoblin man.

When she shows the book to Carlie she didn’t expect much. She certainly didn’t expect him to panic in fear at the sight of the tome, refusing to touch it and asking that she leave his shop. She doesn’t need to be told twice, taking her book and running from his doors.

She finds her way to the local tavern, walking into the middle of some argument between bards. The human one dressed in booty shorts with “All the Time, All the Time,” printed upon his backend is arguing with a man who is apparently the resident bard of the tavern. It’s an argument of upstaging the other. Ren watches as a sea-elf laughs and revels in the atmosphere. 

A kenku and young, blue tiefling child join her at the bar. They whisper and talk amongst themselves. The young girl - Dax, she calls herself - asks Ren to buy alcohol for them. Ren decides to ask the bartender for a mix of sugar water and fruit juice for the pair of them. 

They’re being served when the half-orc woman and hobgoblin man from Carlie’s store walk in. The half-orc woman, who introduces herself as Dragga, checks to see that the two obvious children aren’t drinking alcohol. 

Ren shrinks away from her judgement. She’s about to explain the contents of the drink, when another enters the bar and shouts that the entertainment is on. 

Ren has never seen a tavern empty so quickly. It’s just the handful of them left, clearly the outsiders and not understanding what the city’s entertainment is. Against her better judgement, Ren follows their small group outside only to see a gathering around an execution.

The small kenku slips away from them. Ren doesn’t notice as she watches a man lose his hands first in a display of crowd mongering and gore, only to swiftly lose his head in the next minute. The executioner makes the message clear: This is what happens to lawbreakers on the island.

It’s only when the small kenku child reappears, covered in blood and looking traumatized, that Dragga ushers their group back into the tavern. They tend to their shock when the bartender brings up the rumors around the colosseum. 

Of course the children are too curious and can’t leave well enough alone.

* * *

To be honest, Ren isn’t really sure why she followed. She has no attachments to the people she’s sneaking into the colosseum with. Besides the fact that if they’re all caught, then they’ll all be executed together.

The colosseum is a mess. The creatures are obviously abused before they’re tossed into the ring; they lay in their cages lethargic and wounded. Ren watches as Dax and Clink - the kenku - start to open their cages.

Even as Dragga and the sea-elf try to get them to stop, Ren can’t deny that her fingers are itching for a couple of feathers from the Harpy that’s laying dead in the cage. She knows Dragga will look at her with disapproving eyes again and that - for whatever reason - is enough to keep her behaved.

Things are going well, until they don’t. A giant rift in spacetime opening up and sending them all to the sewers is not something she would have predicted.

She doubts any of her new companions would’ve been able to predict that one honestly.

But they follow Quill, the loud and brave bard, through the winding tunnels. When they come upon Spiggot and Gerald’s home in an abandoned niche, Quill does the talking: “We’re the, uh, maintenance crew doing an inspection of the pipes down here.” 

Dragga voices her confusion and Dolthran, the hobgoblin archer, says he’ll explain it later.

Spiggot and Gerald tell them how to get out of the sewers. Ren can’t help but think they make a lovely couple. She’s seen enough healthy relationships since running away from Oriya to know.

Their group is almost out of the sewers when they find the door. Wooden and clearly out of place. A sign reading: “Mirin’s Mercantile”, is pinned to the door. They’re all too curious to avoid it.

The shop is unlike anything Ren has ever seen. Trinkets & Tomes was cluttered, but this is on a whole other level. Shelves from floor to ceiling line the room and are filled with all sorts of objects and bobbles. There doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to how things are organized upon the shelves.

“Greetings!” A voice calls. They all jump, startled and unable to see who has spoken. “Down here!” the voice calls again.

When they look, they find that Mirin is a mimic in the shape of a treasure chest. “What can I do for you?”

One by one they ask the mimic, who shows them fabulous items that seem suspiciously catered to each of them. But each of them acts the same, dishing out coin and objects for barter with the mimic. Each of them walks away with something better: a blanket, a peg-leg, a pair of gloves. Until Ren asks for information.

“Oh I know all about your new patron,” Mirin teases. “I’ll gladly take the book off your hands, if you’d like. I’d love to have more of _his_ power.” 

“No,” Ren refuses.

“No?” Mirin repeats. “Then may I interest you in this?” He states while spitting out a single page, waving it in her direction with his tongue. Ren takes it and reads the words that begin to swirl onto the page: 

_Shame of the Father. Insert this page into your tome and you will gain the ability to alter the memories of two individuals. They of course may attempt to resist, but failure will result in the destruction of their mind._

Something sinks in her chest. “How much?” she finds herself asking. 

Mirin laughs. “One hundred gold.” 

Ren cannot dish out the coin quick enough. Dragga looks at her scandalized, but she does not care.

This is something she needs. Something she never knew she needed. ‘I can make them forget I existed,’ she thinks. She’ll never have to worry about her parents again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious, Ren is a warlock with a pact of the tome and the Great Old One as her patron.
> 
> Our party started with:  
> Dragga - Half-orc Barbarian  
> Dolthran - Hobgoblin Fighter  
> Eddy - Sea-elf Cleric  
> Dax - Tiefling Monk  
> Clink - Kenku Rogue  
> Quill - Human Bard


	3. Chapter 3

> _**I can't help this awful energy** _   
>  _**God damn right, you should be scared of me** _   
>  _**Who is in control?** _   
> 

\- Halsey - “Control”

* * *

Outside the sewers they board one of the last boats off the island. People are fleeing the rifts that have opened up across the town. 

They spend a week at sea. Eddy - the sea-elf - tells them stories to pass the time. Quill spins his own tall tales too.

They dock in Ensund City, the main hub of worship of Eddy’s goddess, and find themselves in a casino of all places. After a week at sea and a weird experience, they all seem to have formed an odd little group.

“Where do we go next?” Dragga asks.

The answer comes in the form of a Tabaxi named Hans.

* * *

They agree to help him get his house back from the Baron. All they need to do is break into his old house to steal the deed back. It should be easy.

By this point they should know that anything that sounds too good to be true is. They find themselves trapped in an attic with a Rakshasa. 

Ren screams in frustration as none of her magic takes hold. He bats her spells away with backward facing paws. ‘I have to be better than this,’ she thinks amid her anger. ‘I will not be powerless again!’

It’s a losing battle, but a portal splitting apart the floor saves their lives.

* * *

Together their small group jumps through portal after portal.

To a world ravaged by nuclear war. They meet a woman with a metal arm who tells them this strange world is called, “Boston”. They fight zombies and severed hands and stumble upon the body of that harpy. This time Ren collects the feathers she wants.

They battle with a spirit naga and fall into another portal.

They land in a city built on pillars of music and light. A place called “Silver Ball City” with a temple devoted to a man named The Wizard. They learn from the underground resistance that the Wizard isn’t a god, but has cultivated some kind of cult. A man named Freddy Mercury asks them to free the others trapped in the basement of The Wizard’s temple.

With nothing else to go on, they do. Their little rat-tag group kicking in the doors and setting fire to his altar. They fight a group called “The Who” and liberate Silver Ball City. Freddy Mercury rewards them with something called a Slam Tilt, a small silver ball that he explains will rewind a day. It undoes time, taking with it the memories of all except the user and whoever they throw the Slam Tilt at.

Eddy pockets the gift and Quill decides to stay at Freddy’s bar. This world is a paradise for the bard. Their group bids him farewell before jumping into another portal. 

Finally they land in the Dian Republic, specifically Tukidian during the time of festivals. Dax is so excited to show them all her homeland. She leads them through face painting, mask collecting, and a corn maze. They all try something a food stall calls “Nutrient Slurry”. It tastes like mayo.

At another cart they see a familiar face: Carlie. He’s selling his cookies among other wares he salvaged from the shop on Ori Island.

“How long has it been?” Eddy asks, thinking it has only been a couple of weeks since the island was torn apart by those rifts in spacetime. It’s certainly only felt like a few weeks at most.

“Three years,” Carlie explains. None of their group handles the news of so much lost time well. 

Dragga pulls out a pair of glasses and puts them on. Ren watches as this strong woman’s - her friend’s - face goes gaunt; like the life has been drained from her. She stares for a minute then takes the glasses off and leaves, leaving them to follow.

Away from prying ears Dragga explains that the glasses allow her to see a person’s past at the expense of her health. She talks about Carlie’s wife, Rita, who worked a little bit with Mirin before disappearing.

Amid their distress they meet with a woman dressed in flowing robes who holds her arms out to each of them, inviting them for an embrace. 

Ren watches as each of her new friends embraces the woman who gives off a maternal energy. But she does not join their group hug. The book is heavy, chained onto her belt, and she does not feel worthy.

She explains to them that three years ago a person with stolen power ripped some holes in the world. Rifts of both time and space. “He broke time,” the woman sadly explains. The gods have been trying to fix it, but the matter is not so simple.

“Your patron is abusing stolen power,” the woman states while staring at Ren. Not worthy indeed, she feels.

The hug ends, as each of them break away from their group hug. The woman holds Dax’s hands, “You’re on the right track. Don’t let those stuffy monks tell you what is right and wrong.” The woman smiles softly and then disappears.

“That was The Lady,” Dax explains as though it is commonplace for a goddess to walk amongst the people giving out hugs.

* * *

At night Ren takes the time to gather materials: charcoal, incense, and herbs in a brass brazier. She adds one harpy feather and sets it alight, calling forth a familiar. She calls a small fiend and gives it the shape of a raven. It feels right.

She marvels at the being, running her fingers through the silky feathers. She snaps her fingers, canceling out her own vision and hearing to join with the familiar. She’s excited by this new success, seeing through the eyes of her new familiar.

How could something so wonderful come from something ripping apart their world? It doesn’t make sense.

“How did you get the book?” Dragga asks her. 

“From a store,” Ren says, dodging the truth.

“Why do you like it so much?” She asks. “It’s clearly dangerous and bad.”

“What makes you think it’s bad?” Ren asks. What would Dragga know? She uses an axe, she doesn’t need magic. She didn’t spend her life with it just beyond her grasp.

“Good things don’t need to be kept in chains.” Dragga replies. Dolthran agrees and Eddy wants to know the story behind it. 

“Well,” Ren starts, licking her lips. “The book gives me magic and that’s important to me. I took it from the shop I worked in. I don’t know what happened, but the shop was destroyed and the voice in the book said he would teach me how to wield magic. He hasn’t lied, he’s taught me a lot of useful stuff. You’ve all seen the spells I’ve cast.” 

“Voices from books can’t always be trusted.” Dragga states, and there’s that judgement again. She doesn’t know why it feels so bad. It’d be easier if Dragga just yelled whatever frustration she had at her. She could’ve handled that instead of her strange, quiet disapproval.

“Well, he calls himself a Smiling God, so he can’t be all that bad.” Ren replies and Dragga actually pales. 

“You know the bad god?” she asks in a tone that is so much worse. 

Ren is about to reply when she feels her vision darken. Suddenly blind to the world, she snaps her fingers to look through her bird. She feels the pull of the magic take hold, but her vision does not return.

Dolthan is the first to notice something isn’t right. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see!” Ren replies and starts to panic. Eddy holds his gloved hand up, the one with the symbol of Ens, and attempts a restorative spell. It doesn’t take. 

She feels the book being ripped from her hands. The panic she feels at that is almost worse than being robbed of her sight. ‘They can’t take it away!’

_**“You can never tell them”,**_ she hears the voice of her patron thunder in her ears. The words for her alone as slowly her vision returns. Blinking, she sees it’s Dragga who holds her book now. 

Ren reaches for it first. “Give that back.” 

“It made you blind,” Dragga replies, obvious disbelief and exasperation that the book of all damned things is the first thing she wants. 

“I need it,” Ren replies, hands reaching out for it. 

Dragga keeps it out of reach a moment longer. “It’s bad for you.” 

“Dragga I have to have it. I can’t use magic without it!” Ren replies, trying to close the gap between herself and her book. 

When Dragga relents, Ren almost feels ashamed at just how relieved she is to have it back in her hands. “You don’t need magic, Ren.” She tells her, that strange motherly - disapproval perhaps - in her eyes. She can't exactly puzzle out what it is in Dragga's eyes that stabs at the space below her sternum. 

Ren doesn’t have a reply to that. 

The sound of distant laughter only she can hear consumes her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

>   
>  _**And the way the shadows on the wall are cast** _  
>  _**Look like a twisted apparition from the past** _  
>  _**And all the memories come flooding fast** _  
>  _**A wilderness you kinda miss** _  
>  _**But were taught you ought to cut it back** _  
> 

_  
**\- The Oh Hellos - “Grow”**   
_

* * *

Before leaving Tukidian they find a familiar door. Mirin’s Merchantile opens before them and the mimic presents his wares. They purchase items from him once more, handing over gold coins and items they’ve picked up from other worlds. 

“I have the perfect thing for you, little warlock,” Mirin smiles as he spits up a coin. “It’s called Resentment and it fits nicely on the cover of your book.” When she looks down she can see that the leather of the book is shifting to make room for the coin to fit. The coin itself is heavy, bearing a symbol of a cracked mountain and lighting strikes.

Mirin giggles at the look on her face. “You can use it to drain a bit of energy from someone else. You can even choose how you’d like to use their energy to enhance yourself.” 

Ren peels her eyes away from the coin long enough to look at Mirin. To look at his multitude of eyes that have seemed to multiply with each of his successful purchases. She knows that Dragga is probably correct in not talking to the mimic anymore, but the potential of the coin is too much to resist.

‘I could take some of that damnable talent for myself,’ she thinks, fishing her coinpurse from her belt. “How much?” she asks and pays the mimic’s exorbitant fee.

She doesn’t realize just how badly she might have screwed up when Mirin begins to laugh and the lighting in the shop flickers.

“You know,” Mirin says as he shows rows of pointy teeth, “ _he_ doesn’t need you! I could be of better use to him than you!” Then he attacks and it’s all a bit of a blur. 

One minute they’re being attacked and fighting back against a chest. The next minute he’s a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and dropping attacks on their heads. Until finally he becomes the floor itself. 

It’s only when Dax hits his maw with her staff that he starts to cough things up. It is things at first: potions, trinkets, and oddly some seaweed. But then he begins to spit up balls of light that don’t stay formless for long. They take the shape of people, some familiar like Spiggot and Gerald, and some unknown to them. 

A half-orc woman that only Dragga recognizes as Rita.

They’re the people he ate.

“Maybe you should all be afraid of _him_!” Mirin screams before coughing up a dagger that lands at Dax’s feet. Something about spitting up that blade robs him of the rest of his power. His dozens of eyes disappear until he’s left with the same amount they first met him with. 

Dolthran - the best archer in the world - lands the finishing blow.

* * *

It’s just Ren, Eddy, and Dolthran left in the shop now. Dragga took Dax and Clink outside. The weirdness of the dagger has them all a little rattled. 

Dragga and Ren both know it’s somehow like her book. Dax suddenly being able to read celestial doesn’t just happen. Worse is Clink’s sudden protectiveness and addressing Dax as “Azrieloth”. Ren knows Dragga hates it; she’s become so protective of the kids.

It isn’t until the three of them are gone that Eddy admits, “My last job was to transport a dagger and a monk. Aye, my ship sank before the job was done.”

“Was Dax the monk?” Dolthran asks. 

“I don’t rightly remember,” Eddy admits with a frown. There’s more to that story, but even Eddy doesn’t know it.

Together the three of them ransack the remains of the shop. They take a flying carpet, a chess piece that becomes a fortress, a slew of potions and a handful of bracelets.

“Let’s head back to the group,” Dolthran says when they’ve taken the best things of value remaining. Ren pretends to follow, bringing up the rear.

Once she’s alone in the wreckage of the shop, she asks: “I’m better than he was, right?” 

A familiar laughter fills her ears. _**“You’re the same. You and Omalen too.”**_

It’s not the answer she wanted. “I’ll be better then.” She says before walking through the door.

* * *

They’re on the road, heading towards the border of the Dian Republic and Pikra. They need to go to Oriya, of all the damned places. Actually both Oriya and Shorema; and Ren is starting to think it’s some conspiracy by the gods themselves.

They’re closer to Oriya than Shorema though, so that’s where they’ll head first. According to Rita’s ghost before she finally departed for rest, they need to go to her family’s school to speak to an expert named Orlin to find out more about the dagger. In Shorema they’ll supposedly find an aarakocra named Xyrowyn.

The one saving grace is that Dolthran grew up on a farm outside Oriya. He’s at least excited to go home and introduce his family. 

Across the border is a forest shrouded in thick mist. Walking in it doesn’t feel too different from all the portals they’ve jumped through.

_**“Where are you,**_ ” the disembodied voice of her patron asks. “ _ **When are you now?**_ ” 

“What?” Ren asks aloud, startling her companions. 

“ _ **Ah, found you, my little human,**_ ” the voice sighs and breaks off into a fit of giggles.

Ren is about to explain, but the werewolves choose that particular moment to run past them.

* * *

They end up in the town of Torna. On the town’s outskirts Ren uses her mask of many faces to make herself look like Dax’s older sister: Blue skin and horns. So close to home she’ll take the prejudice against tieflings over showing her face. 

It proves unnecessary. Torna - what was once a fishing town - has been cursed with vampirism. 100 years have gone since the Ori Island disaster apparently. 

It happened when they were wandering the woods. Like The Lady said, time is broken.

The mayor states the town is cursed by Toten, the smiling false god of Totenia. He asks them to get rid of the creatures at the top of the tower on the edge of town. Maybe the curse will lift without his agents watching over them.

It’s better than doing nothing.

* * *

They’re sitting around an old table in Memaw’s house. The old witch looks exactly like her grandson, with the exception of a bow in her hair. It’s all rather unsettling.

They handled the ghosts and whatever that skull-wearing creature was at the top of the tower. They came to Memaw’s to recuperate and heal their wounds.

Over tea, Ren comes to terms with the fact she would be dead right now if not for Eddy. 

“Now, let us discuss a bigger issue at hand. Mainly that dagger you have kiddo.” Memaw says at the head of the table.

“What do you mean?” Dragga asks, already defensive of something happening to Dax.

“That being inside you isn’t supposed to be there, but can’t be alone right now.” Memaw states. “I can send you home to live a normal life. A better life than what will happen if you keep hosting that one inside of you.”

They all look to Dax, the youngest of their number and who has very nearly died a couple of times by now. She puts her cookie down on her plate. “I think I’d like that,” Dax says. Dragga rubs her shoulders encouragingly. 

“Excellent,” Memaw says. “Come here and we’ll get that old being out of you.” 

“It won’t hurt Dax?” Dragga asks. 

“Not at all,” Memaw soothes as Dax comes to her side. “Now, which of you will take the being in her place?” 

“What?” Eddy asks. “You want to put it in one of us instead?” 

Memaw puts her hands on her hips. “Well it has to go somewhere! So decide quickly.” 

“Not me,” Dragga states firmly. That much was obvious, issues of gods and powers outside of herself have bothered her for some time now.

“Not me,” Clink echos in Dragga’s voice. 

That leaves Dolthran, Eddy, and Ren. Her hand ghosts over the chained book on her hip. Oh how she would love the power, but that’s all the more reason to say no. She cannot trust herself.

And she cannot trust what her patron will make her do with it either.

“I shouldn’t have it.” Ren states. Looking over at Dragga, she watches as she nods her approval. Something about it sets her heart at ease.

Dolthran and Eddy discuss it before Eddy agrees to take whatever Azrieloth is inside of himself. Memaw nods approvingly. She holds one of Dax’s hands and one of Eddy’s. There’s a flash of bright light and as quickly as it happened it is done. 

“How do you feel?” Dragga asks Dax. 

“Who?” Dax says, blinking at them all. “Who are you?” 

Dragga looks heartbroken. “What did you do?!” She seethes at Memaw. 

“Those memories weren’t her’s.” Memaw states.

“No, I…” Eddy starts. “Yeah I can remember her feelings now mixed up with mine.” He places a hand on his chest. 

“Why doesn’t she remember?” Dragga asks.

“Eddy is an adult,” Memaw states. “He has visions for himself. He has goals. Children dream.” She looks down at Dax, “Ready to go home?” Dax nods up at her. She mutters an incantation and a teleportation circle begins to write itself upon her floor. “Now off you go, child.” She ushers Dax in and then she is gone.

“That child will live normally now, and you,” she looks to Eddy, “won’t lose who you are to Azrieloth.” She walks over to a shelf a takes out a small bag of coin. “Go to the docks. You’ll find a man named Stonedreamer and a boat that will take you all to Oriya.”

Eddy takes the pouch and then they’re walking out her door. 

“There will come a time to make it better,” Memaw says before Ren is out of earshot. “You have a choice ahead of you.”

* * *

Stonedreamer turns out to be a dwarf from Vigno. He joins their group as they set sail for Oriya. 

On the way he tells them about just waking up and digging his way out of a mountain in his homeland. He’s on a quest to get rid of the vampires, or at least the curse that is keeping them as such.

He’s a man of few words, but it’s a welcome distraction as they head into the fog over the water. With each passing minute Ren can feel herself getting closer to home. 

She’ll have to pony up if she’s going to do what she wants to her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stonedreamer is a dwarf druid in case anyone wanted to know :D


	5. Chapter 5

> _**Tell my mother, tell my father** _
> 
> _**I have done the best I can** _
> 
> _**To make them realize** _
> 
> _**This is my life** _

_**-Shinedown - “Second Chance”** _

* * *

Their time on the ship is brief. Passing through the fog, on the other side they find a younger Oriya. The town is less built up than how Ren and Dolthran remember it being. The trees on the shore line are younger and Eddy is the first to realize that they’ve passed through time again.

They dock in the town and Ren throws on another mask of many faces. She makes herself look like a half-elven man with blond hair. She’ll be anyone other than herself in the town. 

“Wouldn’t you rather check in with your family,” she asks Dolthran. The thinly veiled excuse to be anywhere other than inside Oriya proper. Dolthran does want to check-in though, and so they leave for Silverwood Farm.

Much like the town, Dolthran’s home is different than he remembers. The farm is larger, their property line much wider than he recalls. Some of the farm hands he recognizes, though he says they all look younger.

They approach the modest home and find an elven woman, Dolthran’s mother, feeding a small hobgoblin baby in a highchair. Also Dolthran. 

To say it’s awkward is an understatement.

Dolthran has to convince his parents - a wonderful elf and dwarf couple - that he is their son, just sent back in time from the future. It takes a retelling of how they found him to convince them that he is in fact their Dolthran. 

Soon they’re all sitting around the table, eating snacks as the baby Dolthran mashes his food with his little fist. Dragga dotes on the small child while Dolthran’s parents talk to the older version of their son. 

With her mouth hidden behind the lip of her tea mug, Ren whispers a few words and gestures with her hand under the table to cast Detect Magic. The home is modest, nothing really lights up within her vision. Although she notices something hidden away in the cabinet. She keeps the observation to herself; opting not to insert the knowledge into Dolthran’s head. 

She knows it’s not polite.

Once the snacks are eaten, they watch as Dolthran’s father walks over to the very same cabinet to retrieve a box.

“I wanted to wait till you’re older to give these to you,” his father says, placing a box on the table in front of Dolthran. “But it seems like now is a good time for you to have them.” He lifts the lid and inside are three beautifully carved figures of goats. Their ivory is smooth and Ren can see that they radiate a dull magic.

They bid Dolthran’s parents farewell and then journey back up the road to Oriya. Ren casts the magic to throw her mask on just outside of the town once more. 

They go to the school to find Orlin, spotting him in his office. He is a stocky gnome with thick, round glasses. His eyes are magnified behind them in an almost comical way. He takes Eddy’s dagger and gives them a miniature lecture about ancient weapons and the history of the gods. 

“It’s a god of chaos’s dagger,” Orlin says, looking at the celestial engraved on the pommel. “Azrieloth is considered a demi-god, really. He apparently fell out of divine favor during an incident called Heaven’s Fury. Though I must admit it’s curious that the god Toten borrows imagery from Azrieloth, resulting in some scholars thinking that Azrieloth morphed into a different god.” 

“How does one become a demi-god?” Eddy asks, taking the dagger back. No doubt wondering what he now is with the remnants of Azrieloth inside of him.

Orlin adjusts his glasses. “There aren’t many paths to godhood, but it’s known that Mototom - the god of knowledge and the dead - has sometimes granted godhood to his faithful. Or at least he’s been known to do so more than the other gods.”

Their group is afforded time in the library. Ren quickly finds the books they seek: books on Totenia, the worship of Toten, and other texts that might possibly mention Azrieloth. Eddy, Dolthran, and her read for hours; but learn nothing new.

Clink comes running up to Stonedreamer with a book of maps. Their little clawed fingers pointing at the landscape of Vigno. Ren catches sight of it over Stonedreamer’s shoulders. It’s a map specifically showing elevation.

The most interesting fact being that Vigno has no mountains.

Dolthran voices the realization first as Stonedreamer blinks at the drawing. “I thought you said you lived under a mountain in Vigno? But that map says there aren’t any mountains in Vigno.” 

“Aren’t any mountains in Vigno,” Clink parrots.

“It’s a bad map.” Stonedreamer states and gives nothing else.

* * *

They go to the tavern for food and rest. They take the table by the window and order an array of drinks. Ren summons her familiar just outside the closed window. “Watch over me for a minute,” she whispers to her friends; her eyes and ears joining with her familiar. 

Her familiar flies to the Der’Oren estate. Landing on the windowsill she is able to look in. She watches her mother sitting in a chair knitting a pair of socks. Ren doesn’t miss that her belly is large, clearly pregnant with Alexander. 

On the rug in front of her sits a younger Renee, no older than a toddler. Seeing herself isn’t what startles her though, it’s what she’s doing. Sitting on the rug she watches as her tiny toddler fingers move and create a shimmering image. A beautiful illusion of a butterfly that flies around the small group of blocks scattered in front of her. 

How could she possibly make such an illusion? 

Her mother does not bother to look up from her knitting. She watches Albert enter the room with a tray of tea. She watches the family butler praise her little illusion. “Taking after her father already.” 

It’s all a bit too much. Ren snaps her fingers and brings her attention back to the table at the tavern. 

“What did you see?” Eddy asks. 

“Something impossible,” Ren replies, pulling the chained book out and plopping it on the table. Dragga gives her a worried look. 

“You’re going to open it here?” Dragga asks.

“I have questions,” Ren replies, rummaging through her pack for her quill and inkwell. She throws the book open and quickly finds an unmarked page. Quickly she writes: _How was I casting magic as a child?_

Absorbed in her writing, Ren does not see Dragga pull out the vampire glasses. She does not see Dragga put them on and stare at her while her face pales and shrinks in on itself. 

Ren watches the words on the page fade into nothing. She waits for a response: either in writing or in the laughing, haunting thoughts of her patron. 

“You were a sorcerer?” Dragga asks, taking the glasses off. Her face immediately looks less gaunt as the glasses come off.

Ren stares at her, almost scoffing. “No. I’ve never been able to do magic, Dragga.”

“You could,” Dragga insists. “You were a sorcerer. But someone broke into your house and stole your magic. Your family tried to fix it, but when they couldn’t your Dad modified your memory.” 

“That’s impossible,” Ren wants to shout, but a small itch has appeared in the back of her mind. Her earliest memories are always around when she’s eight years old. She thinks, pushing against the invisible barrier on her memories. Did her father really change her memories? 

Looking down on the page, Ren sees Toten’s reply: **_They set you up for failure_**. 

Quickly she writes another question: _Who is the son-of-a-bitch who stole my magic?_

She watches the words sink into the page, disappearing and then twisting into new words. **_You are._**

She stares at the answer, her head spinning at the implication. How could she steal her own magic away? Is that even possible? 

In her ears she can hear the distant laughter. “ ** _You’ll never know. I’ll never help you with this._** ” 

She slams the book shut. 

“I need a drink,” she says, getting up and leaving for the bar. She orders whatever the strongest drink they serve is. She doesn’t care that it tastes like an unfinished potion. 

She wants to hate them. She wants to punish her family. But doing so now, back in time, it doesn’t feel right. If they were in the correct time, she would. She wouldn’t hesitate. 

She also knows their group won’t come back and it feels like a wasted opportunity. 

She orders another drink. She swallows the burning liquid quickly, trying to drown her anger and frustration.

“You look rather troubled,” a man tells her, sliding into the stool next to her. She gives him a sideways look, almost tells him to beat it before she recognizes him as her grandfather. Still old, but not to the point where he has become a fixture in the living room chair. 

She almost chokes on her drink. She doesn’t though. She forces herself to swallow and then puts the glass down on the counter with maybe a bit too much force. “It’s been a long day.” She says. She looks like herself; she hasn’t reapplied her mask of many faces since sitting down in the tavern. 

“Drinking your troubles away doesn’t usually help,” her grandfather advises. 

“No offense, I just want to drink in peace.” Ren tells him as politely as she is able. She doesn’t need more of her grandfather’s judgement. More than a little buzzed she’s getting the itchy feeling to run, run, run.

“Fair enough,” her grandfather says. “You seem rather smart though. You should try applying yourself at the college.”

Ren actually laughs in his face at that. Oh the irony, if only he knew. “I can’t do magic, I’m sure your stupid school won’t want me.”

“You could study herbalism,” her grandfather replies instead, not missing a beat. “We have a wonderful program and it is a noble profession. We have a library of seeds at the college and can always use more help with the archive.”

Ren scowls at him. Of course he would say this to a stranger, it was never good enough when she took up the study after her apprenticeship ended in absolute failure. 

Her grandfather smiles lightly. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve overstepped. You remind me of my granddaughter, for some reason. Though I’m sure your family is proud of whatever it is you do.” He stands up from his stool and the words stun her for a moment. “Magic or not, you should know that it doesn’t matter. I do hope you’ll reconsider what I’ve told you.”

Then she’s watching him walk away. Proud? Did her grandfather just tell her that her family - his family - would be proud of her? Of course not! If he knew who she really was then he’d have nothing but frustration and scorn for how she’s turned out. She was a sorcerer as a toddler and look at her now.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until the bartender is asking if she wants another refill. Wiping her face she tells him no, pays her tab, and then walks off to the room she’s sharing with Dragga and Clink. 

She throws herself down on the bed and sobbs. A terrible, hollow feeling making itself at home in her chest. 

* * *

She wakes up the following morning to a commotion. Dragga and Clink startle awake with her. It sounds like an argument coming from the room with Dolthran, Eddy, and Stonedreamer. 

Dragga throws their door open. They find Eddy and Dolthran yelling at Stonedreamer, who is lying on the floor. He had tried to rummage through their things while they slept and tripped instead. 

'Serves him right', Ren thinks. 

Breakfast turns out to be a sullen, grumpy ordeal.

“So,” Dolthran starts after a meal has been had. “Do you want to see your family, Ren?” 

“No,” Ren replies. “It’s probably better that I don’t.” She tries to hide her bitterness. 

“I’m glad you’re not using your evil page on them.” Dragga states. Ren doesn’t look at her, knowing the look that’s being shot her way. She doesn’t tell Dragga that she still wants to.

“I don’t know what happened to my magic,” she says instead. “But I don’t think I can steal it from myself. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.” 

“Magic never makes sense,” Stonedreamer states. Ren gives him a bit of side-eye herself. She’s seen him cast spells: seen him mold earth and grow plants.

“Anyway,” Eddy says before another disagreement can break out at this hour of the morning. “I guess we should go to the docks and look for a way to get to Shorema.” 

They all agree. Ren tries to hide her anxiety over the fact she’s returning somewhere the law might not be too keen on her. It’s an issue she’ll solve later though. 

They go to the docks and it’s Eddy’s turn to stop in his tracks in bewilderment. “It’s my ship,” he says. “It’s the Longshot.” They look at the ship he is pointing out. It is a magnificent vessel, currently being loaded with box upon box of cargo. 

A noble man stands among the line of workers, clapping his hands. “Chop chop! I can’t wait to weigh anchor and set off to cir- uh, circum… oh what’s the word?” 

Eddy is approaching. He starts up a conversation, learns the history of the ship. It’s a newly built ship and this will be its maiden voyage. The noble - a man called Lord Donk - owns the boat. 

“I’m setting off to circum-something the globe!” Lord Donk says with a grandiose wave of his hand. 

“Circumcise,” Stonedreamer states deadpan. 

Lord Donk lights up, “That exactly! I’m going to circumcise the globe! Thank you good fellow! It’s clear you’re educated in these matters!” 

Beside her Eddy shakes with silent laughter. “ _Eddy_ ,” she thinks and inserts the thoughts into his head for him to hear. “ _This is your boat, right?_ ” He nods at her. “ _Do you want me to help chase him away so you can take it back?_ ” she asks telepathically.

When Eddy nods again she summons her raven. Not directly nearby, but close enough so that it can still obey her commands. Her familiar swoops down at Lord Donk's head, causing the noble to scream. “Terrible, filthy bird!” Lord Donk shouts as he runs up the dock, flailing his arms above his head. She commands her familiar to keep up the attack, swooping at the man’s head. “Disgusting crow!” 

At the sad look on Clink’s face, Ren has the bird land a talon on Donk’s shoulder and casts a low level of shocking grasp. He screeches. ‘Serves him right,’ Ren thinks. 

“Come on,” she tells the group. “Let’s get Eddy’s boat.” 

“You’re stealing?” Dragga asks, surprise and reprimand in her tone. “We can’t steal from him!”

“It’s Eddy’s boat,” Ren states. For once can Dragga just agree with her? It would be so much easier if she did. 

“No,” Dragga snaps at her. “Stealing is wrong, Ren! I thought you knew that.” 

“It’s not stealing if it already belongs to Eddy in the future.” Ren replies, biting down her own rising anger. 

“I’m not stealing a boat!” Dragga shouts and many dock workers start to stare at the group. “We’re not stealing a boat! Make your bird stop it.” 

Glaring at her, Ren snaps her fingers and her familiar ceases the attack. Ren watches as Dragga storms off to talk to Lord Donk.

* * *

They set sail for Shorema with the Longshot. Lord Donk, inexperienced at sailing as he is, has decided to take on the group as their patron. They will circumcise the globe for him and write back their findings, sending treasures as they come across them. 

“We don’t need a patron,” Ren grumbles to herself as she ties one of the sails using a knot that Eddy taught her. “Especially if we’re probably going to drift through time again and lose him anyway.” The grumbling argument to herself makes her feel better at least. Dragga currently isn’t speaking to her.

The last several days haven't been good for her anger at all.


	6. Chapter 6

> **Your life is always the post of something else**
> 
> **Where's the present?**
> 
> **The way that you present yourself**
> 
> **And it's disgusting how little that you try**

_**\- Say Anything - “Do Better”** _

* * *

They’re sailing at night when Dragga calls out to them all. “The kelp has eyes!”

That is how they meet Oceana, the gargantuan neried with broken common. “So there is this...uh, light under da waves. It - what is the word... scare? Yes, scare da fish. Hard to sleep with.” 

They agree to help, so Oceana encases their ship in a bubble and brings them to the ocean floor. Sure enough, as they descend past the twilight zone of the ocean there is a new light coming up to them from the sea floor. A jagged line of cracks in the ocean floor with light spilling from it into the depths of the ocean.

It lights up more than just the surrounding ocean, the light also illuminates the tempered glass of a building on the ocean’s floor. 

Something else that the time rifts spat out in the wrong place? None of them are sure as they leave the safety of the ship to explore the facility. 

“This place is a ghost town,” Dolthran says, looking at the cobwebs and scattered papers strewn about the floor. Ren agrees; whoever was here left in a hurry.

Eddy translates the celestial signs; reading the directions in the halls and names of rooms on doors. They find computer terminals similar to the ones they saw in the world called Boston. One of the screens still blinks a message:

> “Azrieloth is gone. The director has done the unthinkable. 
> 
> Separate the sisters to get their help.
> 
> The Cat can bolster you, but not much more.
> 
> The Witch of Spirits will offer healing.
> 
> Don’t drink from the well.
> 
> Restore the City of Heaven’s Fury. Take it back from that cult of death.”

They puzzle over it for some time. Memaw fits the description of a witch, but they’re not sure if she is a Witch of Spirits exactly. Eddy’s goddess is the Cat. The sisters are the goddesses of Vigno, Pikra, and the Dian Republic. Those are all easy enough to understand.

The rest is still too cryptic for them to agree on the meaning. 

The bunk room is where they find the first of the skeletons. 

“Vampires,” Stonedreamer growls as he examines a skull.

Just perfect.

* * *

In another room they find rows of terminals, each of them still collecting data from something. Eddy has a hard time translating it. 

A distressed sound from Clink has them all looking out the giant glass windows on the wall. From vents in the wall they watch objects get spit out into the water: a silver ball from Silver Ball City, animals and creatures not of their world, weapons from Boston, the body of a Harpy, and finally a body of a small kenku. 

The kenku body distresses Clink more. 

“What’s wrong?” Dragga asks, only for Clink to telepathically respond through the bracelets they looted from Mirin. 

_ “Clank, my brother.” _

“We’ll fish him out,” Eddy offers. He does so with the giant crane arm, sweeping things into another vent shaft. The items eventually come out on the conveyor belt. 

They’re looking at the bodies when a voice disturbs them. “Captain Eddy.”

Turning around, they find themselves facing a half-elven man.

“Omalen?” Eddy asks, disbelieving as he recognizes the man.

“Captain Eddy,” the half-elf repeats with a stiff monotone. His voice stiff like someone has pulled the cord on a voice box for him to recite lines. It doesn’t feel right.

She cannot detect undead like Eddy can, but she can Detect Thoughts. It is weird that the spell sounds like static when she attempts it. As though there is nothing going on within the man’s head. It is unsettling; the way he stands and speaks makes her think of the lure of an anglerfish.

She whispers the thoughts into Eddy’s mind. But if Eddy understands her warryness, she’s not sure. He seems too wrapped up in finding a member of his lost crew to heed her warning. 

They notice the golden glowing shackle on his arm too late. Shimmering into existence above Omalen is a huge, spectral betta fish. Electricity arcing off of it’s spectral body.

Stonedreamer throws the first punch and then it is on. Each of them fighting as the room is torn apart by the massive creature connected to Omalen.

It’s when Dragga has her axe raised over Omalen’s shackled hand that Ren casts  _ Blight _ on the fish. She watches in odd fascination as the white, radiant scales dull and blacken before disintegrating completely. 

The strange glow of the light outside the facility’s windowed walls dies at the same time.

She would feel so much more accomplished and satisfied if Omalen didn’t go limp in Dragga’s grasp.

“No!” Eddy shouts, rushing over with his holy symbol’d glove. She watches as he tries to revive him, only for the spell to fizzle and fail. “Damnit!” Eddy cries, pounding his fist against the ground next to Omalen’s body. 

Noting the shackles still on Omalen’s wrist, Eddy begins to rip them off. 

“Don’t touch it!” Dragga cries, stopping Eddy. “Magic is dangerous.” 

Ren’s use of  _ Detect Magic _ only confirms her fears. “I want them off of him!” Eddy demands.

“She has an axe,” Stonedreamer states, but shrugs when Eddy shoots him a seething glare. “What? She was going to do it a minute ago.”

Ren solves the issue by conjuring a  _ Mage Hand _ to slip the still very active shackle off of Omalen’s wrist. She thinks about her patron’s words in Mirin’s shop. This is the Pact of the Chain to her Pact of the Tome and Mirin’s Pact of the Blade. 

She could take it for herself, she thinks darkly. But Dragga’s concerned glare has her quickly reconsidering. She instructs the spectral hand to put the shackles into a trash bin.

“Really?” Dragga asks. 

“No one else has been down here in years,” Ren states. “No one is going to find it here.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Dragga replies. “Your book should stay here too then.”

“We’ve been over this,” Ren says, a protective hand coming to settle over her book on her belt.

But Dragga is relentless. “When are you going to get rid of your own chains?” 

Ren doesn’t have an answer for that.

* * *

Oceana helps them arrive in Shorema faster than sailing normally would allow. Their ship is heavier with some of the items from the vents and the two bodies.

In the city Ren finds Trinkets & Tomes standing once again. Her old boss greets her and she is relieved that she didn’t accidentally kill him. He’s happy to see that she didn’t die in whatever it was that destroyed his shop. Sheepishly she shows him the book, only for him to put two and two together. While disappointed, he tells her to try getting rid of it at the temple in the Moto Wastes.

“I’ll see,” she tells him. Even she’s not sure if her words are a lie. So many people want her to be rid of her patron. But she’s not the same as Mirin or Omalen, right?

In the city they barter for lightweight leather gear and scarves; perfect for travel in the wastes. While stocking up on supplies, a goose Aarakocra tells them that they have been summoned to the Salt Palace to speak with the Salt Empress.

A woman named The Final Pam is the Salt Empress, wielding a divine right to rule over the land tied to Mototom.

“Find Xyrowyn. Go to temple, fix the temple back to normal size, then bring back salt,” she instructs their group. None of them are really sure how to handle the whirlwind of a meeting.

Ren especially doesn’t know how to take her new title, “Oops! I Did It Again!” 

* * *

In a street between the World’s Smallest Jail and the World’s Biggest Smallest Jail they meet Xyrowyn. She is a barn owl Aarakocra and the first of Mototom’s faithful. 

She looks at Eddy with exasperation, taking Azrieloth’s dagger and examining it. “You should take better care of the gifts I give you.” 

“Excuse me?” Eddy asks.

“Your dagger, Azrieloth,” she states as if that answers anything. 

“So,” Doltran says, dragging the word out. “We need to go to the temple and we heard you can tell us how to get there?” He flinches at the glare Xyrowyn levels him.

“Yes I can, but I’m not going with you.”

“Why?” Stonedreamer asks.

“Because I’m not able to anymore.” Xyrowyn states and offers no further explanation. She pulls out a small box and gives each of them a small pouch of holy salt. “Use it to make a circle and you’ll be protected.” She explains as they each look at the salt questioningly. 

“Don’t trust a lot of what you see in the temple. Things you feel that you should trust, you especially shouldn’t.” Xyrowyn continues.

“What is wrong with your temple?” Eddy asks.

At that, Xyrowyn only laughs.


End file.
